Glass Pawn
by striped-jaguar
Summary: Urahara always read a thousand steps ahead, but in the end, he hasn't really won a thing. [Super long one-shot, SPOILERS TO CHAPTER 176 of manga, swearing. Warnings for wacked out "theories".]


**WARNINGS:** **MASSIVE SPOILERS** LIKE WOAH UP TO **CHAPTER 176**, although it gets sort of AU around there because there is such thing as CREATIVE LICENCE. Did I say that right? No. I meant that I warped it. The Hou Gyoku _HAS NOT_ been taken out of Rukia yet, and I ignored Tousen entirely. Very sorry, I am.

And watch out for bad words.

And Bleach doesn't belong to me, yes yes, you know the drill.

**Notes and crap** before you consider reading this almost 7,500 word beast:

a) As of yet, I have not read chapters 178 or 179. So whatever Aizen reveals in those chapters have not been taken into account in the fic.

b) I don't know how to play chess.

c) I'm really nothing but a very silly little girl.

Enjoy!

* * *

.not quite the start. 

"We're almost there!"

"Fuck - why didn't you tell us that the train went both ways!"

"Just run, you idiot!"

"SHIT! Aaa - AAAAUUUGGGGHH!"

They burst out of the doorway with an explosion of spirit energy behind them. There are crashing sounds – four impacts of flesh and ground - and Yoruichi lands neatly on Ichigo's head.

Behind them, the passageway closes, hissing smoke, and rapidly breaks apart, leaving nothing but shredded pieces of paper flying through an artificial wind, and an empty blue sky.

Ichigo looks up, and notices the very familiar weird shoes of a very familiar weird-shoe-wearer.

"Well then!" Urahara says, happily fanning away the dust around his ankles into Ichigo's eyes. "Welcome back!"

Glass Pawn

(A tale of Icarus that's not.)

A long time ago, Urahara remembers something like this happening:

"So where did you put it?"

Urahara Kisuke was silent for a long time. "It might be better," he said finally, casting a low glance at the cat sitting beside him, "if you do not know of such matters, Yoruichi. It could be annoying for you later."

The cat tossed her head, huffed out an exasperated breath. "Oh, please, Urahara. You're already draggin' me out of Soul Society with you; I don't see how a small piece of information like that is going to annoy me more."

"Ah! And I never properly thanked you for that, did I?" Urahara turned around, reached for something. Yoruichi blinked, and suddenly there was a saucer of fresh milk placed in front of her.

"Just tell me, you twit. It's never good for just one person to hold that type of secret." She flicked her tail in thanks, and lowered herself to lap at the milk.

Urahara scratched his chin. "You do realize, don't you. If I tell you this, there is no possible way that you can ever return to Soul Society."

"Don't be stupid. Of course there is. A situation will come by that will allow for it."

Urahara took a long breath, looked up at the night sky, visualized things that might come, things that might not, and a million other little possibilities that glittered in the back of his mind like stars in the dark.

"It'll be quite a situation, then," he said.

Yoruichi was silent in her agreement.

* * *

The four teenagers are promptly knocked unconscious, carried upstairs, put into beds. Urahara waits until each of them are tucked into their covers, until his employees have left the room, before turning to Yoruichi and speaking. 

"So, Yoruichi-san! How was it?" He grins. "Lots of fun, I'll bet!"

Yoruichi is sitting on Sado's chest, tail flicking to and fro agitatedly. Her eyes are narrowed, gleaming.

"Don't be like that, Urahara. They know."

Oh. That changes things. Urahara feels his grin drop into a small smile. "Is that so." Urahara closes his fan, thumps is lightly into his left palm. "And what do they think of it?"

Yoruichi scoffs. "They're not delighted."

A moment of silence passes.

"Am I correct in assuming then, that Yoruichi-san and the group have completed the intended goal?"

Yoruichi curls herself up, tail wrapping around, her whole body forming a small black ball of fur on the off-white blankets. "You would."

Urahara's voice is soft when he speaks again. "And would I be correct in assuming that Kurosaki-kun knows all that Yoruichi-san knows?"

The cat's tail flicks once more in affirmation.

Urahara pulls down the rim of his hat. He thinks he feels thankful that everyone he sent out a few weeks ago has returned in one piece. He thinks he's relieved that the mission was successful, that the Jewel had been destroyed. He thinks he feels a bit remorseful, too – almost regretful – that Ichigo knows everything – to the extent of all that Yoruichi knew, even!

But Yoruichi didn't know the half of it.

* * *

Urahara remembers a game of chess: 

"Your move," Ukitate said.

Urahara tapped his fan against his chin thoughtfully. "Aw, Ukitate-san, you've backed me into a tight corner here!"

Ukitate laughed, tried to muffle the small cough that also came out. "Don't be like that, Urahara – I've never won a single game of chess against you, I'd think I'd deserve it by now."

Urahara groaned. "But on the day before my exile? Have pity, Ukitate-san!"

"All the more reason to beat you while I still have the chance!" Ukitate smiled, because they were both past the feelings of helplessness and sadness, and had already accepted Urahara's sentence like one learned to accept everything in Soul Society.

"Don't underestimate me, Ukitate-san!" Urahara said pleasantly. "You know, I'm quite good at reading several moves ahead during a game! How do you think I've managed to keep our dearest First Captain out of my hair all this time?"

Ukitate rolled his eyes. "I am well aware of your astounding capabilities, Urahara," but his tone was teasing. "Why don't you just show me what you can do, then?" Ukitate motioned to the chessboard, where Urahara's white pieces were overpowered on all sides by black.

"Well! I'm glad Ukitate-san asked! I'll give you a demonstration!" Urahara pointed to his chess pieces as he spoke. "I know that if I move here, Ukitate-san can check me here. If I move here, Ukitate-san can check me here, or here. If I move this, here, Ukitate-san can checkmate me! And," Urahara moved his pawn. "If I do this…"

Ukitate's eyes sparkled, his lips curled. "Check!" He said, slamming his bishop down. A win? Finally, after so many years, he –

Urahara smiled sadly. "Because I can read so far ahead, I know Ukitate-san is going to be very mad at me one day," he said, surprising the white-haired man sitting across from him. "So I offer Ukitate-san some words of advice. Take care of Kuchiki Rukia, and be prepared to hate me later for my astounding capabilities."

He picked up his knight, put it down. "Checkmate."

* * *

"Ah, if I may, before you go to sleep, Yoruichi-san," Urahara ventures. 

"What is it. Hurry up, I'm tired." Yoruichi cracks open an eye.

"Tell me what happened, the last battle."

Yoruichi opens the other eye. "You're asking a lot, Urahara. Lots of things happened in that battle, and I wasn't a part of it. I only watched – I was held down by a forbidden binding spell. Ask Ichigo when he wakes up, or hell, ask Ishida, ask anyone else, but it's not my right to say."

Urahara hold up his hands. "Hey! Don't get me wrong, Yoruichi-san! I don't want an epic or anything, just a general idea! Surely you can provide your old friend with that? Besides, the curiousity is overwhelming me, and the kids are fast asleep!"

"Mmm."

"I'll get you a bottle of the most expensive milk I can find."

"...okay."

What Yoruichi tells Urahara is nothing more than he has already deduced. Aizen was there, Gin was there. Aizen wanted Rukia. Ichigo wouldn't allow it. They fought. Ichigo was losing. The others, Ishida and Inoue and Chad, had their hands full keeping Gin at bay. Aizen explained everything. Ichigo, out of anger, was taken over by his Hollow side. Aizen, unaware of Ichigo's hidden power, was caught off guard and after a few clashes, had his illusion defeated, his sword broke, his throat slashed.

"And?" Urahara says, when Yoruichi stops. "Was Rukia there, during the whole time, watching?"

Yoruichi looks away, at Ichigo's bed, where the redhead is lying, still and pale. "Yeah. After Aizen fell, he walked to Rukia, and she couldn't move away. His spiritual power is overwhelming, you know." Urahara makes a humming noise. Yoruichi continues, albeit slower, quieter. "She was frightened, Urahara, scared out of her mind. The expression on Ichigo's face - it wasn't nice." The cat shivers slightly. "The others called to him, but Gin was still fighting strong. And they didn't know what he was about to do, anyways."

Urahara lowers his eyelids, lowers his voice. "And, what did Kurosaki-san do?"

Yoruichi claws at Urahara – a blur of black in the air. He moves back in time, but only just. She's nicked his knee, and after a second, three lines of red begin to seep from his skin.

"What the hell do you think he did, you idiot!" She snaps, hissing. "He did what you wanted him to do, what his Hollow side - which you didn't even let me know about! Did you even think about the consequences, you imbecile? I thought he was going to get taken over completely, it was that strong, have you no idea --"

"Yoruichi-san," Urahara says, stopping her tirade. "You can get angry at me later. Right now, tell me what happened." His eyes are hidden from her view.

She spits out her next words. "The hollow did what it was created to do. He killed Rukia, destroyed the Jewel. Are you satisfied now, Kisuke? It worked. Your fucking plan worked. Are you happy?"

She turns around and tucks her head into her arms in one graceful movement, ending the conversation.

Urahara wants to sigh. He doesn't. He doesn't know what to feel. But Urahara doesn't feel happy.

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl. She and her only brother were orphans, their parents having abandoned them at a very young age. She couldn't remember much of her life, only that her older brother was the only one who loved her, took care of her, sang her to sleep at night. She adored her brother. When she was eighteen, he died, and the world turned very cold. She couldn't recall any specific events, she thinks she might've been stolen away from her home, beaten by gangs, raped regularly, but she can't be sure - she died not too long later, so it didn't really matter. 

After her death, she entered the Soul Society, and soon became a Shinigami. For many years, she kept her eye for a head of hair that looked like hers, that particular shade of auburn, kept her ears open for that gentle voice, kept her heart sensitive for any of that familiar warmth. The day she was reunited again with her brother was the happiest day she had ever known.

"Sousuke! Brother!" She remembered shouting. And her brother turned around, eyes widening, and he smiled in that special way she hadn't seen for so, so long.

"Masaki-chan!" He'd said, and her heart sang as they ran to each other.

But it had been many years, nearly a century, since they'd seen each other, and her brother had changed. He was still the brother she loved, of course, but he was the vice-captain of the Fifth Division and he was always busy. She wanted to join his team. She was strong, smart, talented, but the Fifth Division was full. So she joined the Twelfth division, as it had an opening for someone of her skill, and looked forward to the day that she'd be the same rank as her brother. Her captain's name was Urahara Kisuke, and she was surprised to learn that she trusted him.

A few centuries past, and she eventually became Vice-Captain of the 12th Division. By that time, her brother was long since Captain of the 5th, and she was happy for him. They were both busy now, and she missed him, but she was very content in her division, and under the guidance of Urahara-taichou, she earned her own name in Soul Society. Urahara-taichou always had many experiments going on, and sometimes she would be allowed to help him in his labs. She felt honoured, and vowed her internal loyalty to her captain everyday.

Time went on, and she had gotten past formalities with her captain. She'd often tease him, that they were equals in strength, so he'd better not try to take advantage of her, and he'd smile and laugh with her. Time went on, and he'd sometimes talk to her about his research with Hollows. She found it terribly interesting, and was overjoyed to find that her brother was even more interested in the subject than she was. When she told him such, he had smiled his smile, and her heart had thumped with love for him.

One evening, her brother asked her a favour. Could Masaki-chan please get some information for him, about the _Hou Gyoku_? He'd ask Urahara himself, but the man was always detained with something or another. See, Sousuke was helping with the research, and he'd promised Urahara to get something done, but he'd left the files he needed in the lab and had a meeting tomorrow. Could Masaki-chan please fetch it for him? He'd grant her access, so she'd be allowed inside! Masaki had agreed, never doubted her brother's words. She'd entered the hidden laboratory the next day, following her brother's instructions, and rifled through cabinets to find the folder with all of her captain's early notes and sketches. She'd finally found it when she heard sirens. She whirled around, only to meet the wide eyes of her captain.

"Captain," she'd said. "What's going on?"

"Masaki," Urahara had said. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting some files for Sousuke." She peered around, at the assembly of guards that surrounded her. Something was wrong. "What's wrong, captain? Is something the matter?"

"You aren't allowed here without my permission, Masaki. This is a serious offense. I thought you would know that."

She was shocked. "What do you mean? I have my brother's permission! He's leading in the research here, isn't he?"

Urahara's expression had tensed for the briefest moment, then dropped into an emotionless mask. "No, Masaki," he'd said, as two Shinigami tied her wrists together. "He's not." And Masaki suddenly felt the same cold she hadn't experienced for so long, not since her brother had died, leaving a little orphan girl very alone and very sad, back in the mortal world.

As punishment, her sword was going to be broken, her Shinigami title stripped. There was nothing anyone could do about it. By breaking into the laboratory only Urahara Kisuke had access to, she had violated Shinigami code against her division, and her captain. Masaki pleaded innocent, begged the Council to talk to her brother, that it'd all been a terrible misunderstanding. Her brother would save her. The Council held a meeting with Aizen Sousuke immediately following his sister's arrest, and his sister received the resulting news from the mouth of the First Division Captain, Yamamoto Genryuusai.

"Aizen Masaki, your brother has testified the following against you: that you were operating by yourself, that you were operating under full consciousness of your actions, that you have been organizing a rebel strike against the Soul Society for many months, that your final aim was the assassination of myself, Yamamoto Genryuusai, and that you attempted to steal information from your captain, Urahara Kisuke, to use as blackmail material. You have committed treason, unauthourized breaching of your jurisdiction, formed tactics against the Soul Society, and are accused of first degree attempted murder of a high official. You have been found guilty. And as such, Aizen Masaki, your sword shall be broken, your Shinigami powers removed, and you are to be exiled from Soul Society."

"...what? No! That's impossible!" She screamed, even as a metal collar was clasped around her neck.

"Aizen Sousuke has sworn on his sword that this is truth, and had shown us all evidence of his deductions." Yamamoto's glare was cold, piercing. "There is absolutely no possibility that you are innocent."

"NO! It's all a trick! Sousuke wouldn't say such things! YOU'RE LYING! He wouldn't LET THIS HAPPEN! _HE WOULDN'T_!" She fought against the Shinigami restraining her, pushing them away from her with a sudden explosion of spiritual power. She began chanting - but a hand on her mouth stopped her. Suddenly, her insides were burning; the fibers of her konpaku were being ripped apart, as if she was being set on fire with knives from the inside. The tired voice of Captain Yamamoto whispered in her ear.

"Be thankful, Masaki, that exile is your final sentence. The council was pushing for execution, and it was only because of the arguments of Urahara Kisuke that your punishment was lessened. Be very thankful that I am not allowed to destroy you on the spot!"

The last hour before she was to be exiled, her brother came to visit her. Her mouth was covered, wrists cuffed, she was tied to her chair, and she could not answer him when he entered the cell, bent his head down, and smiled at her, in that way that she used to adore. She felt sick, seeing it now.

"I got the information I wanted, sister. In all that chaos of an esteemed vice-captain breaking Soul Society law, no one noticed if I released my soul cutter. No one noticed a few files disappearing from a thousand others."

Masaki gasped at the sudden pain in her chest, her eyes threatened to spill tears.

"It's all because of you, dearest sister, that I got what I wanted. Thanks for playing my game."

And she'd blinked, and he was gone.

After arriving in the human world, she wandered. Her Shinigami powers were gone, yet her spiritual powers remained. But no one could see her, no one could hear her. She didn't exist anymore. She'd watch the humans live their lives, growing, changing, having children, being happy, and she'd hurt because her brother had betrayed her, and that made her feel more alone than she could bear. She'd only been a tool. Her brother had planned everything from the start. She'd learned later, catching tidbits from Shinigami on the job but under order to ignore her, that Aizen had been the one to introduce her name to Urahara, to recommend her as help in the Institute, to use his Hypnosis to fake documents of her guilt. Everything. Her brother didn't love her. Her brother had never cared. She'd only been a pawn in his game.

The day she learnt that, it was the most painful thing she'd ever known.

* * *

It's been two hours and three minutes. The sun is setting outside. It's been almost three weeks since they left. Right now, they're all sleeping, including Yoruichi. Urahara sits by the doorway, feet propped up on the nearest bed, watches the others breathe evenly from under the brim of his hat. 

They've all improved, Urahara can tell. Drastically. The Quincy's energy seems a little volatile, and Urahara wonders what happened, wonders if it has anything to do with the new 12th Division Captain. Inoue's much more powerful now, as is Sado. They seem to have the capabilities of at least a 5th seat by now, perhaps 4th. And they've all grown closer, developed into their own powers to protect the others. Urahara wonders if bringing them together is the only good thing he has ever done.

The bed covers Urahara is resting his feet on shift - the occupant of the bed groans, turns over. Urahara sits up, suddenly alert. Ichigo is having a nightmare.

"No," he's muttering. "No, wait, WAIT - stop it! NO! Get out of my head!" His whispers turn to whisper-screams. "STOP IT! Rukia - Rukia, run away! Get away from me, RUN! Please - STOP IT, NO!"

Urahara grips his fan, knuckles turning white. Ichigo is growing louder by the second. The others shouldn't wake up, but they might, and Ichigo is --

"NO! MOM! WATCH OUT - STOP -_ GET OUT OF MY HEAD_! AAAAAAHHHHH!"

Ichigo bolts up, panting, sweating, terrified. His breaths are pained, eyes large. He squeezes them shut, and Urahara can see clumps of moisture on his lashes. "It was only a dream, a dream," he murmurs, after his breathing has calmed slightly. His voice is shaking.

After a moment, he looks up, and meets Urahara's gaze.

* * *

Urahara learned the whole of Masaki's story nearly fifty years later, when he, too, had been exiled from Soul Society. He found her in a small town, in the garden of an abandoned shop that was hidden from public view. It was covered in weeds and vines and dust, and at first, he thought she was an old statue, cold and grey and frozen. But statues didn't turn to look at you, didn't cry when they saw you. 

"Are you real?" Was the first thing she said, and Urahara didn't answer right away.

"I could ask you the same thing."

And then she smiled through her tears, and walked towards him, and held out her hand.

"Why are you here? Were you looking for me?" But her voice sounded empty, as if she couldn't will herself to hope for even that.

"No," Urahara replied lightly, taking her hand, feeling her spiritual energy. "I got kicked out, too, sadly. Hee hee, just as well, this place looks pretty nice. Imagine, I could set up a shop here! Endless possibilities!"

She laughed and her voice cracked, as if she hadn't laughed in a very long time. Urahara supposed she hadn't.

"I'm very glad to see you again, captain," she said. "Do let us catch up."

So while they were cleaning out the dilapidated little building, they talked. Urahara learned of Masaki's pain, her hate for her brother, the way that him using her as a tool destroyed her. He asked her how she'd been keeping hollows off her back all this time; she replied that the people who were supposed to strip her powers didn't do a very good job. She asked him how Soul Society had been, but didn't ask about her brother. He told her that it'd been fine, that it'd been boring, and didn't mention the Fifth Division captain who had become untouchable. He asked her why she stopped in this town, of all places, and she said that she'd liked the scenery, the people, that it was a nice as place as any. She asked what he did to get exiled.

He told her about the Gigai.

She was amazed. A gigai that could such away at a konpaku's spiritual energy, fuse it together with the gigai, until they melded and the soul became human. The former soul would, in time, possess a beating heart, a working circulation, digestive, nervous system - they would be able to interact with other humans, be able to bleed real, physical blood, a woman could even_ give birth_. This complicated, unbelievable gigai - Urahara made it to be undetectable by the Soul Society, and so he was expelled from it.

After many long years, Masaki came to him, and asked him if she could use that gigai that gotten him exiled. It was her second chance, she'd said. She could start over.

He'd said, "Why, sure!", like it was simple, like it was okay, but his mind was already in motion, reading a thousand steps ahead.

* * *

"You fucker," Ichigo whispers. Urahara continues to stare. 

"YOU FUCKER!" Ichigo screams, hurtling out of bed, eyes blazing, and Urahara doesn't bother to dodge the hands that suddenly grips around his neck, the strength that suddenly slams him into the wall, sends his hat tumbling off his head.

"THIS WAS ALL YOUR IDEA, FROM THE START, WASN'T IT!" Ichigo's voice is hoarse, because he's pulling up energy he doesn't have, to press Urahara's neck into the cold wall, to curl his fingers tighter.

Urahara doesn't speak. Doesn't move when the others slowly wake up, only to wonder if they're still dreaming, because there's no way that Ichigo would be choking Urahara while choking on his own tears. The others sit up and stare and Inoue gasps, and Yoruichi's whiskers quiver, but no one makes a motion to grab Ichigo, to pull him back, to soothe him.

"TALK, YOU BASTARD," Ichigo yells, and he's more furious that Urahara has ever thought he was capable of being.

"What do you want me to say, Kurosaki-san?" Urahara says, breathily, because he hasn't got any air left.

The grip on his neck loosens slightly, and then it's gone, and Ichigo takes one shaking step backwards. Inoue is already on her feet, catching him as he falls over, then supporting him up. Ichigo hasn't taken his eyes off Urahara, and he's so, so angry, it reminds Urahara of something - someone - he'd rather not remember.

"Tell me that you didn't know what was going to happen, that you didn't plan it all from the start. Tell me that we weren't sent as your subordinates - that we weren't expendable. TELL ME."

Urahara doesn't flinch, doesn't remove eye contact. He should've seen this coming. Of course Ichigo would react this way. What else was he expecting? Understanding? Acceptance? Forgiveness? No. This is Ichigo, and Ichigo loves his family and friends with a passion that is greater than his spiritual strength, and Ichigo would do anything to protect his loved ones, Ichigo would do anything to destroy the things that might harm them. Because Urahara put the people Ichigo loved in danger, because he was the reason they were hurt, because Urahara made Ichigo kill the one he loved most, Ichigo would never forgive him. Ichigo would never comprehend Urahara's reasons.

"Don't be silly. You were not expendable, Kurosaki-san," Urahara tells him, and prays that he's telling the truth.

* * *

Masaki didn't understand. She couldn't understand. She wouldn't ever understand. And Urahara would never tell her. 

He'd hidden it away in time, before others – Aizen - had found out what he'd done, what he'd made. But the safe was only temporary. It was something that was always at the back of his mind, alternating between the ticking of a clock that counted time too quickly, or it would claw at his brain and draw blood, or it would cry for help with the voice of Kuchiki Rukia. He was the one that created the Hou Gyoku. He would be the one to figure out how to destroy it.

Masaki, for all her sharp eyes and sharp mind, never bothered to ask why her brother wanted those particular papers. The files that Urahara went back to check on right after his vice-captain's cell had been locked, the ones that weren't missing like he'd thought they would be, the ones that weren't on the floor where Masaki had dropped them, the ones that were back in their rightful spot, slotted neatly between hundreds of other pieces of paper.

Every time she approached the subject, Masaki's mind would collapse. Her brother's betrayal still caused her so much pain that she couldn't even think about it without feeling like she was being pierced from the inside into a hundred million tiny little shards. Urahara knew this, because Masaki told him. Over time, Masaki grew stronger, and Urahara no longer saw her cry, and she smiled more, never faltered in her steps. So Urahara never had the heart to tell her why her brother wanted those special data sheets (badly enough to send his own sister to her own personal hell), how Aizen even knew about the Hou Gyoku in the first place (the wrong sentence out of Urahara's mouth to the wrong person at the wrong time), how it was Urahara's fault for talking to Masaki about the experiments (Urahara had over estimated Aizen - thought he'd already known of the research, wouldn't want the information that Masaki knew), that Urahara had asked for an exile instead of the execution that would've ended Masaki's pain.

Because Urahara was selfish, and he read a thousand steps too far ahead. He saw within Masaki his only chance to undo his biggest mistake, saw within her the key to destroy the monster that he'd created before someone else made use of it. He couldn't tell Masaki. Her brother had cut her too deeply. She wouldn't see the enormous strength of the Hou Gyoku (she'd see her brother's smile), the havoc it could wreak (she'd see her brother's eyes), the destruction it could cause (she'd hear her brother's voice, whispering fake promises in her ear). She wouldn't understand it - because then she'd see that Sousuke wanted the information that Urahara had written, that her brother had used her to get to her captain. She'd see her brother, and Urahara standing behind him - and Urahara couldn't take that.

Because Masaki was now loyal to no one but Urahara, and he needed her to fix something that was entirely his own fault. If she found out that it was all Urahara's fault, she'd leave, and Urahara wouldn't be able to do anything but watch as it came time for the death of the world. So Masaki could never know, Masaki could never understand, because Urahara would never tell her.

* * *

"Rukia's dead," Ichigo says, as Inoue tucks him back into bed. Ishida and Chad are standing around his bed, eyes sad. "Rukia's dead," Ichigo repeats, and Inoue strokes his hair. "I killed her," Ichigo says. 

"Shhh... it's okay, it's going to be okay," Inoue whispers. "Go back to sleep, Kurosaki-kun."

"What happened?" Ichigo is still muttering. "I was fighting Aizen. I got angry - something happened, did I lose control? Someone was laughing, and then I don't remember anything. Then I opened my eyes, and I saw Rukia, and there was blood all over, and she wasn't breathing and wasn't moving and she looked scared and she was _dead_, and _I killed her_!"

"Shhhh..." Inoue whispers, wiping away Ichigo's tears.

Urahara hasn't budged from his position against the wall. His hat is on the ground. Urahara looks at the stripes, his eyes trace the lines, but he's not really seeing it at all.

* * *

This is Urahara's last memory of Kurosaki Masaki: 

She was nine months pregnant, due any day, and still, she'd made one last visit to the Urahara Shop before her new life would take up all of her time. Urahara was delighted to see her, gorgeous and glowing, smiling at his employees at the entrance of the store. She'd wanted to talk, and asked for a private room, and he'd complied, eyebrows raised. He'd only just slid the door shut when she grabbed his shirt, pulled him forward until they were nose to nose, and her eyes were more furious than Urahara had ever thought they were capable of being.

"Kisuke." She stated clearly. "I had a dream last night. It wasn't pleasant. But I learned something. And so I'm here now, asking for a favour."

"Asking?" Urahara grinned, ignored the ferocity in Masaki's eyes. "My my, Masaki-chan, those hormones must have messed up your abilities to express emotions! Right now, you aren't asking, you're demanding! Now, if --"

"SHUT UP." Masaki said, but let go of his clothes. She moved back, the whole of her demeanor changing, as if someone had dumped something very cold and fearful over her. "Just ... just promise me something, okay? As a friend, Kisuke. As my only friend."

Urahara saw tears gathering on Masaki's eyelashes, something he hadn't seen in a long time. He saw her bite her lip, lace her fingers together to stop them from shaking. When she spoke, her voice was so quiet, Urahara could just make it out over the silence of the room.

"Promise me," she said, meeting his eyes, "that if something happens to me, that you'll take care of my baby. That you'll watch over him, make sure he's happy. Promise me that you'll keep him safe. That he'll have loved ones to protect him. That he'll have loved ones to protect. Promise me that he'll grow up strong - that he'll never, _ever_ know the pain of being someone else's tool."

It was the way that she looked at him with, desperation and hurt and almost hysteria, that made him say what he did.

"...I promise," Urahara told her, and prayed that he was telling the truth.

* * *

After Ichigo wakes up again, he wants to know the whole story. Urahara doesn't know what he's talking about. He asks again. Urahara shoves his mouth full of food. He asks again. Urahara shoves his mouth full of pills. Ichigo revives, asks again. Urahara sighs, talks for three hours and fifteen minutes and seven seconds, doesn't tell Ichigo anything that he doesn't already know. When Ichigo has healed enough to make it out of the room without collapsing, he finds Urahara and pushes Zangetsu against his neck. 

"Explain the whole fucking thing," Ichigo says, eyes narrowed dangerously and voice deadly. "Or I'll fucking slice your head off your shoulders."

And Urahara wonders if that just might be the way out he's been looking for all these years.

But he looks at Ichigo, and sees Masaki's behind his brown eyes, hears Masaki's words behind the tremor of Ichigo's, remembers the promise he made so many years ago, relives that same fear and desperation and hurt and almost hysteria, and something inside him breaks.

"Do you think it will make you feel better, Kurosaki-san?" Urahara says, the shadow of his hat obscuring his expression. "If it's what you truly want, then I'll tell you."

"It's what I truly want." Ichigo wants it to ease his nightmares, ease his pain, stop him from seeing ghosts that no longer exist. Urahara knows the truth won't help.

"Then let me go and I'll tell you everything."

This is what Urahara tells him:

Once upon a time, there was a man who flew too close to the sun. He was too optimistic, too curious, too selfish, he wanted to research the similarities between Hollows and Shinigami, and perhaps investigate the border line between them - see how far it could stretch before snapping. The man learned that instead of stretching, it could be cut completely, and Hollows could become Shinigami and vice versa. He created something that made this possible. The man called the device Hou Gyoku. Once the man realized the power of the jewel that he had created, he immediately thought to destroy it. But he couldn't. He tried for so long, so long. But he couldn't. So he did the next best thing - he hid it. In the spirit of Kuchiki Rukia, he hid it away, prayed that no one would find it.

He picked Kuchiki Rukia because she was the Shinigami in charge of the section that Aizen Masaki was residing in. The man had long since predicted the events of the far future, and he'd kept tabs on Aizen Masaki in case he should ever be of need of her assistance one day. The man prayed that such a day would never come.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful woman. She hadn't always been a woman, though - she used to be a spirit. By using a specially made gigai invented by Urahara Kisuke, she became a real flesh and blood woman, and she fell in love with a man named Kurosaki Isshin, and they got married and had a child and named that child Ichigo.

As the child grew, the man watched, and was startled to realize that Ichigo looked a lot alike someone named Shiba Kaien, a vice-captain from Soul Society who was killed by his own subordinate, Kuchiki Rukia. In the man's mind, the pieces of a chessboard were neatly laid out, and he began to read a thousand steps ahead.

One night, Kuchiki Rukia met Kurosaki Ichigo, and the two of them were met with a dire situation of which there was only one way out. To destroy the Hollow attacking them, Kurosaki Ichigo had to become a Shinigami. So he did. The man, watching from the shadows, knew that the right time had come, and moved his first chess piece forward. He lent Kuchiki Rukia a gigai that would make her human, which would hide the Hou Gyoku from the eyes of Soul Society.

The original plan was to have Rukia eaten by a powerful hollow and then Ichigo to destroy the hollow. But it never happened. The two of them kept on succeeding, and the man found himself encouraging them, helping them, feeling proud when Ichigo grew stronger. He'd lose track of his goal, forget that these two interesting people had a larger purpose. This wasn't supposed to happen. Another route had to be taken, that would not allow for distraction or failure. So the man moved another piece forward.

But something happened, that was not according to plan. Someone found out the location of Kuchiki Rukia. The man knew he had to keep a low profile, or the Shinigami would automatically realize that Rukia's gigai was no ordinary one. They'd question her, trace it back to him, and then everything would have been for nothing. Rukia would be found innocent and the man would be removed from existence. The Hou Gyoku would remain.

So the man allowed Rukia to return to Soul Society with a sentence on her head. In Soul Society, Kuchiki Rukia was to be executed, and the man briefly entertained the thought of letting that proceed, thinking that it might destroy the Hou Gyoku just as well as Ichigo could. But then he heard news of Aizen Sousuke's death, and knew that suddenly the game he was playing had an unmistakable opponent. Aizen wanted the Hou Gyoku, and the man would not allow his opponent to have it.

The whole plan changed.

The man taught Ichigo to regain his Shinigami powers, gave Ichigo the curse of his Hollow side. After creating something that could erase the line between Shinigami with Hollow, opening up the boy's mind to let in a small Hollow personality was child's play. Ichigo would be strong enough to defeat all his enemies until he reached Rukia, and at that point, the Hollow side would take over to do its job - destroy Hou Gyoku.

"The rest you know," Urahara finishes, feeling very tired.

He tilts his hat down. He doesn't want to see Ichigo's expression, doesn't care how Ichigo takes the news. Ichigo hates him. Ichigo will never forgive him. Urahara has broken his promise to Masaki. He frowns for the first time in a long time, and reassures himself that there was no other way.

"Why me?" Ichigo says at last, sounding very far away.

"It goes around in circles, you realize," Urahara replies. "I hid the jewel in Rukia because she was the Shinigami assigned to the district Masaki was in. Your mother, I knew, was the key to resolving the whole thing, though at the time, I didn't know how. But I've always trusted my instincts before, and they didn't fail me. There are complications with the Hou Gyoku, you see. It was very powerful. If Rukia didn't want to die, it would keep her alive. And Rukia loved to live. There was only one situation wherein she would surrender herself, where she would have absolutely _no doubt that she wanted to die_. This would only occur if she was going to be killed by the one she had loved and killed... the man that you resemble a lot, Kurosaki-san...

So it was you because of Rukia, and it was Rukia because of you. And you were both my pawns."

* * *

There was a condition to the promise Urahara made to Masaki: 

_"Promise me," she said, meeting his eyes, "that if something happens to me, that you'll take care of my baby."_

Urahara's mind started working the minute he realized that his instincts had been right, the minute his realized that Masaki's baby looked like Shiba Kaien. Masaki was still alive, still breathing, nothing had happened to her. So he hadn't broken his promise. He hadn't.

Masaki wasn't supposed to die.

There was a loophole to the promise Urahara made to Masaki:

_"Promise me that he'll grow up strong - that he'll never, ever know the pain of being someone else's tool." _

Urahara hadn't meant for Ichigo - or Rukia, or _anyone_ - to be his tool. He hadn't. This was the only truth Urahara ever believed in. But as long as Ichigo never found out, Urahara would not be breaking his promise.

* * *

Ichigo doesn't look a lot like Masaki, really. He's got a square-ish chin, hers was delicate. His chin is spiky, not curly; it's orange, not auburn. He scowls a lot, though when he was younger, Urahara did occasionally notice the resemblance to his mother in his smile. 

But really. It's the eyes.

They have the same eyes. It's the exact same fucking colour; have the exact same fucking spirit blazing behind them.

They're the same eyes that made him make that promise that he didn't really want to, the promise that he regretted everyday since, the promise would rather die before he broke because it was his only ever favour to Masaki, after a thousand lifetimes of doing her wrong.

They're the same eyes that pleaded for the truth, that made him break that promise he's said he'd never break, that made him hate himself a million times over and over and over.

Urahara wishes he could take it all back. There is nothing he wants more. He went over this in his mind, as he watched Ichigo grow, from two to three to fifteen, as he watched Ichigo fight, Hollow and Menos and Shinigami altogether, as he watched as Ichigo makes friends, as he watched Ichigo try to protect his friends, as he watched Ichigo fall and cough up blood after Ichigo still couldn't defeat Urahara, and he had to, dammit, there was only two fucking days left!

Urahara has been watching Ichigo for a long time, perhaps even longer than he's been watching the chess game that only goes on in his mind, the one that he's won finally, but Ichigo is broken, lying in a hundred million tiny black shards of soul cutter swords, littered around Urahara's feet.

Urahara wants to apologize, apologize for anything and everything. Because it was his entire fault in the first place. Urahara wants to say, "I'm so sorry," but he doesn't know how. He doesn't know which Kurosaki to say it to.

He wishes he could take it all back. He goes over this in his mind, over and over and over.

* * *

But Urahara always thought a thousand moves ahead. And he knows, already, what he must do now. 

It was his very last resort. Only if nothing else could be done, if Urahara felt that there was no other way, then he'd allow himself to do this. It was originally supposed to be used only if Ichigo was scarred beyond healing, and was on the brink of self-destruction because the ghosts of Soul Society would not leave him alone. If he did it to Ichigo, Urahara would have to do it to the others, too.

Urahara reasons that Ichigo learning that his whole life has been nothing but a means to an end qualifies as a dire enough situation.

He did it with the humans who'd seen Kon. It was extremely dangerous, but Kon was only in their mind for a short time on a specific date, so it'd worked. They'd forgotten the whole thing.

But this - erasing from their minds all of Soul Society? If it went wrong, they could be permanently damaged mentally. They could die. Urahara could die. They could wake up, and slaughter each other, laughing their heads off, set the world on fire with their spiritual strength, then kill themselves. If it went wrong.

If it went right... Ishida would die at a young age, bitterly hating the Shinigami, and the legacy of the Quincy would die with him. Inoue would live, always handicapped by the memory of a brother she had not said goodbye to. Chad would live half-heartedly, looking for someone to protect but not knowing who or how or what. And Ichigo would be nothing more than a scowling fifteen year old, who was too brash and too cocky and with hair too bright, just a lost little boy haunted by ghosts, just a little boy who wanted too see his mother again. The four of them would meet and become acquaintances-classmates-maybe-friends, and it'd be nothing in comparison to the bonds they held now.

It would be such a grand waste.

Just like the Hou Gyoku had been.

But Urahara had always been selfish. And he had a promise to keep.

So Urahara lowers his fingers to Ichigo's temples, and Urahara prays that one day, he will be forgiven.

.stop.

* * *

A/N: It's retarded because it's impossible. But it's a fanfiction, so it's okay. The "explanations" were created solely by my own twisted mind. Feel free to review to tell me how wrong I am or if I've left a plot hole (it wasn't beta-ed or anything). Or to tell me that I'm brilliant. I wouldn't mind that, either. Hell, any kind of reviews would be totally appreciated. 

Oh! And if anyone cares to know: After the title, there are fifteen sections. Fifteen is sort of the official number of Bleach, yeah? Right. Hardly amusing, but there you go.

Thanks for reading.


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